


Peanut Butter

by SharkGirl



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Comedy, Cute, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Funny, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Married Couple, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Cravings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 15:11:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13460865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkGirl/pseuds/SharkGirl
Summary: Lance swallowed thickly, wondering how he was supposed to get his hands on something so precious. So rare.A birthday gift~





	Peanut Butter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aeiouna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeiouna/gifts).



> Oh gosh. I sure hope you like this!! I'm always nervous posting birthday fics ^^;;  
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I hope this waters your plance~
> 
> Beta'd by the fantastic and talented Alex and Jes~♥  
> Please enjoy!

This was starting to get out of hand. Lance knew it. The team knew it. Heck, Slav probably knew it – and in seventeen different realities to boot.

But, Delma Aleja Hermosa Fernández-McClain didn’t raise no dummy. So, instead of voicing his concern with his wife’s most recent… _request_ …he simply stood there, not fighting back as she placed a tiny hand against his chest and shoved him, rather unceremoniously, out of their bedroom and nearly into Hunk and Keith, who just so happened to be walking through the hallway.

But the addition of the two other paladins, didn’t break Pidge’s concentration.

“And don’t you step foot back onto this castle ship until you’ve got some,” she snapped, drawing her brows down in anger and causing the cutest little crease to appear between them. Lance wanted to kiss it away. But he wasn’t given the chance. “You got that?!” she shouted and then slammed the door. Impressive, considering they slid shut.

“Whoa…” Keith gaped, his gaze shifting over to Lance.

“Dude…” Hunk echoed, slowly reaching out to pat Lance’s shoulder. “What-”

But the door slid open again, revealing a still-very-much-livid-looking Pidge. “And that goes for all three of you!” she added before ducking back into the bedroom and leaving them be once more.

“What did you _do_?” Keith asked, but Lance just shook his head.

It wasn’t anything he’d done, exactly. It was just that his better half was well into her second trimester and her cravings were, well…beginning to fall into the realm of impossible to get. Especially considering they were still out in space – defending the universe and all that – and they just didn’t have the time to whip up a quick wormhole to Earth so she could get exactly what she needed.

“What does she _want_?” Hunk amended.

Lance swallowed thickly, wondering how he was supposed to get his hands on something so precious. So rare. Then he turned to the others and answered. “Peanut butter.”

 

Allura, Coran, and Shiro had made themselves scarce ever since Pidge’s hormones had started making her a cranky nightmare – not Lance’s words and he’ll swear up and down that he never said them, until his dying day, when he’ll finally admit it on his deathbed, surrounded by his loving children and grandchildren.

That is, if Pidge ever let him put another baby in her after this.

At the rate things were going, he’d be lucky if she let him touch her again sometime this century.

“Okay, so, peanut butter,” Hunk said, rubbing his chin. “That shouldn’t be too difficult to find.”

“Are you kidding?” Keith quirked a brow. “We’ve been out here for seven years, visited countless planets, and we’ve never seen anything even remotely resembling a peanut.”

Lance blinked at him, his eyes wide, and Hunk elbowed Keith in the ribs. “As much as I’m sure Lance appreciated that little pep talk-” He shot Keith a frown “-That doesn’t necessarily mean they aren’t out there.”

“Y-Yeah,” Lance managed, shaking the dark thoughts of Pidge divorcing him and throwing him into a black hole. “I mean, Hunk’s come up with plenty of substitutes over the years. Remember the garlic knots he made me for my nineteenth birthday?”

“They were blue,” Keith deadpanned.

“Tut tut.” Lance waggled his finger. “Always, naysaying, aren’t you, Kogane?”

Keith reached up and grabbed Lance’s wrist, lowering his hand from in front of his face. “I’m just being realistic.”

“All right.” Hunk stood between them, breaking them up. “Let’s not waste our time squabbling,” he said and then crossed his arms over his chest. He turned toward Lance. “How long do you think we have before Pidge gets sick of waiting and emerges to hunt you down and kill you in cold blood?” he asked.

“Uh…” Lance had to think about that one. She was already hungry and, even though there was a stash of snacks in the top drawer of their bedside table, there was one thing she definitely wouldn’t find in there. “Maybe a couple of vargas?”

“Okay.” Hunk nodded. “Let’s load up in Yellow and see if we can’t find us some peanuts.”

“Great!” Lance said and then faltered. “Wait. Do we have anything to crush them?”

Hunk held up his index finger. “And a grinder!” he added.

 

After deciding Hunk’s makeshift food processor back on the ship would be good enough to handle the job, the three focused all of their energy on locating something similar to a peanut.

But no matter where they looked, they were unable to find anything.

“She’s going to kill me,” Lance lamented, draping himself over the back of Hunk’s chair. “I’m too young to die. I won’t even get to see my son’s face.”

“Aww, don’t worry,” Hunk soothed. “She’ll probably wait until after the baby is born before murdering you. You know. To be fair.”

“Gee, thanks, man.” Lance glared upside down at him.

Just then, the cockpit began flashing an angry red. Keith, who’d been leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed over his chest, sprung into action, joining Hunk and Lance at the console.

“Did we find something?” he asked, eyes scanning the holoscreens which had started popping up in front of them.

“Looks like we’re picking up a distress call,” Hunk said and then shot Lance an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, man,” he said. “You know we gotta take this.”

“I know,” he replied, letting his shoulders sag. “And it’s not like we were even close to finding what we’re looking for,” he sighed.

Hunk and Keith shared a look before turning back toward the screens. “Well,” Hunk said as they flew in closer, Yellow picking up several biorhythms, “At least we’re not coming home emptyhanded.”

 

Quite some time later, Lance shifted his weight on the balls of his feet as he stood in front of his bedroom door. Well, it _had been_ his bedroom. He didn’t know if Pidge would ever let him back inside it again. He knew he was coming to her with bad news. Well, really, really good news, too. But not exactly what she’d sent him out to get.

He took a deep breath and lifted his hand, knocking only once before the door slid open.

“You’d better have it,” Pidge snarled, giving off what could only be described as a menacing aura.

Lance cleared his throat. “I, uh, well…” He tried to swallow, but nearly choked. “I wasn’t able to, ya know, find the peanut butter…” he began and winced at the death glare he received in response. But he quickly reached behind him, grabbing onto the man standing there and presenting him like an offering. “But I found your father!”

It was amazing. After years of searching, they’d picked up a distress call from a group of freedom fighters while out for groceries. Imagine! And Lance was sure Pidge would laugh at the irony. Later, of course. Cuz she didn’t look capable of laughter right now.

“Hi there, Sweet Pea,” Samuel Holt greeted with a small wave.

Hard, honey-colored eyes shifted their gaze between her father and Lance before settling on the latter. “I’ll spare your life for now,” she said, voice cold. “But the next time you show your face, you’d better be holding a jar of the goods, capisci?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Lance saluted and, once again, the door was shut in his face.

But then, a half a second later, the door reopened and Pidge poked her head out. “Oh,” she said, smiling at her father. “You can come in, Dad.”

“Of course.” Sam beamed and accepted the invitation, but not before turning toward Lance to whisper, “Good luck, son.” Then the door slid shut with a ‘whoosh’ and Lance was left alone.

He hadn’t found any peanut butter and he wasn’t _going_ to find any peanut butter. His fate was sealed. He was destined to be alone for the rest of his life. All because he couldn’t give his wife the one thing she wanted.

Suddenly, he heard shouts coming from the end of the hallway. He turned to find Hunk barreling toward him, looking terrified.

“Hunk, what-”

“Coran and I tried to make synthetic peanut butter and it gained sentience!” he screamed, nearly knocking Lance over in his haste to escape.

Wait. What?

“Misread the instructions on the splicer!” Coran added, sprinting past. “I’d run if I were you, m’boy.”

Lance turned and his scream got stuck in his throat when he saw a giant blob of peanut butter expanding down the hallway. Its eyes glowed red and it opened its mouth, clearly intent on swallowing him whole.

His legs were frozen in place, rooted to the ground. The beast was drawing closer and closer, its gaping maw dripping and casting him in shadow. This was it.

 

Lance shot up in bed, his body drenched in a cold sweat and his fingers gripping the sheets for dear life. It took him a moment to get his bearings. He caught his breath and blinked a few times before he realized he was in his own bedroom. There was no giant peanut butter monster chasing him. He was safe.

He turned to the side to find his darling wife, eyes peacefully closed as she snored quietly beside him.

It had all been a dream.

Sure, it was true that Pidge was about halfway through her pregnancy. And Lance smiled as he glanced down at her belly, round and barely covered by her borrowed shirt – one of his. But she hadn’t really expressed the need for anything crazy. She’d happily been letting Hunk cook her anything and everything he thought up.

But, Lance thought as he licked his dry lips, it was only a matter of time. He knew how much Pidge loved peanut butter. And although she’d put up with the paste Hunk concocted out of the fruit from  that planet they’d visited a couple of years ago – the stuff kept well – he knew it wouldn’t quench her thirst. Or sate her hunger.

Whatever. He was tired.

And it may have been the combination of that exhaustion and his strange dream that supplied his sleep-addled mind with this particular idea. But he figured now was as good a time as any to execute it.

So, after kissing his beloved on the forehead and banishing all thoughts of the terrifying peanut blob, he sluggishly got out of bed, rubbing a hand over his face and nearly tripping when his leg got tangled in the sheets. He stepped into his slippers and was padding toward the door, when a soft voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Lance?” Pidge called groggily, rubbing her eye as she propped herself up on an elbow. “What are you doing up?”

“Um…” He blinked still-bleary eyes and fought to remember why he’d gotten out of bed. “Seeing if Hunk can build me one of those counter searchy thingies.”

Pidge quirked a brow. “A Geiger counter?” Then she sat up a bit more, cocking her head to the side. “What for?”

“To find something…” Lance answered hesitantly, knowing full well that this Pidge was not the same crazed and angry version from his dream, but still wary about depriving her the precious sleep she needed.

“What are you looking for?” Pidge asked.

Lance took a deep breath and looked his wife straight in the eye. “Peanut butter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lance, honey. That's not how those work.
> 
> Let me know what you think and hit me up on my Voltron side blog [@bleucheesy](http://bleucheesy.tumblr.com)!


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